A Thousand Reasons
by Blue-eyesThropp
Summary: "There's one thing I could never quite wrap my head around. Why did you leave? On Cuba." When Charles Xavier asks the question that his burning in the back of his mind for forty years, Erik Lehnsherr realises that there may be a thousand reasons for him to leave, but there will always be a thousand and one reasons for him to stay (not slash, pure bromance!)


**Authors Note: Alright, so I know only few people have been reading my X-men fanfictions recently, but I'm not going to give up the fight, because I simply love the depth and beauty of the characters. This fic is kind of similar to one I wrote a while ago, called „The Little Things," except this is pure bromance, not even implied slash… well, unless you really, _really _want to see it. It is possible to love a friend as a friend too, you know ;-)**

**Oh, and also, this fanfiction is dedicated to the amazingly talented writer Shining Friendship. Thanks so much for actually reading and reviewing my X-men stories, your kind words have been very inspiring and uplifting xxx**

**So enjoy, and remember that reviews are love.  
>Best regards,<br>Blue-eyes Thropp **

**Summary: ****_"There's one thing I could never quite wrap my head around. Why did you leave? On Cuba."_ When Charles Xavier asks the question that has been burning in the back of his mind for forty years, Erik Lehnsherr realises that there may be a thousand reasons for him to leave, but there will always be a thousand and one reasons for him to stay. Rated T for character death**** (not cannon).**

**Disclaimer: All rights go to the creators of the X-men universe. I own nothing. **

A Thousand Reasons

The plastic prison was pleasantly warm, albeit austere and the faint strings of Vivaldi fill the air as the two old friends engage in a friendly game of chess- one suited, bald and seated in a clear plastic wheelchair, the other, the other, grey haired and clad in white prison garb. When he reaches out to move a rook, his sleeve slides up to reveal the digits _214782_ inked for all eternity into his forearm. Professor Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr are both marked- visibly and invisibly- by a long history of pain, animosity, betrayal and, yes, love, and still, they sit opposite one another, civil as ever, playing chess without a word.

"Erik?" Professor X asks, almost absent-mindedly- his eyes are fixated on the plastic chess board, but the gravity in his voice suggests that what he is about to say has been carefully considered and has been impending for a long time.

Magneto hums vaguely, watching his sworn enemy capture a pawn.

"There's one thing I could never quite wrap my head around. Why did you leave? On Cuba. Oh, don't worry," Professor X says quickly in response to Magneto's incredulous stare, "It's been so many years. What's done is done, what point is there in fretting over the past? But I could never quite understand why you chose to leave, of all things.  
>"Don't answer if you'd rather not. I'm just curious."<p>

Magneto looks thoughtfully at his old friend. The truth is, although he felt guilty for having left for many years, he indeed never questioned his motives to do so. It had seemed the only plausible course of action. He hadn't known the extent of the damage his slip had done; Charles had made it quite clear that he didn't want Erik around anymore; he wanted to form his own alliance and there was no need to stay for that. It would have done nothing but impeded him. In retrospect, however, these no longer seem like viable enough reasons to illicit Magneto's final choice.

"Why are you asking this, Charles?" he asks, purposefully not answering the question, "As you said, after all these years… What's the good in it?"

Charles shrugs and shakes his head, "It's something I thought a lot about, you know," he smiles- a little thinly, Magneto observes, as though it is painful to, "I just wondered if you ever did. But no matter."

The Professor deftly switches two figures- Erik's Queen and his own Pawn- with a quick flourish of his fingers. Magneto silently swears under his breath. He should have been paying attention to the game! Just then, the guard comes to collect Charles Xavier. Visiting hours are over.

* * *

><p>That night, as he curls up on the plastic prison cot, Erik truly contemplates for the first time why he left Charles that fateful day in Cuba. Unfortunately, sleep finds him before an answer does…<p>

_"Erik!" Charles bellows, throwing himself to the ground, narrowly dodging a bullet, their young mutant brothers and sisters, as it were, screaming in fright behind them, "Moira! Stop!"_

_As soon as it had started, the sound of bullets shooting out of the CIA agent's pistol ceases. Erik whips his head around to Charles. He is massaging an elbow he twisted when he hit the ground with a pained face; his suit is sandy and wet and he still looks greatly shocked, but he is otherwise unharmed. Raven runs to his side, but he signalises to her with a raised hand that he is alright._

_"I'm sorry, Charles! Are you OK?" Moira breathes. Erik says nothing. He simply closes his eyes and thanks the heavens that nothing happened; that Charles saw the impending danger and reacted fast enough. He could barely imagine what would have happened if Charles had not been so nimble._

_"Erik!" Charles barks, his breathing still erratic, "What the bloody hell are you doing?"_

_Erik cannot answer. Instead, he lets his gaze wander out towards the horizon, where countless missiles are exploding in the air, in the water, destroying military ships by the dozen. He feels suddenly acutely aware of himself and his surroundings, as though all his senses have been heightened at once. He runs a shaking hand across the nape of his neck. Did he do this?_

_"Erik?" Charles' voice rings out, this time with more of a questioning note. He has sensed that his ally is coming to his senses.__  
><em>"Look at that!" Charles points towards the flaming boats, "There were innocent men on those ships! Dozens of innocent men - all of them dead now because of you. Because of mutants! If you're so desperate for them to stop fearing us, what good will killing them do?"<em>_

_Erik's voice momentarily catches in his throat, but he regains it enough to retaliate._

_"They will never stop fearing us, Charles. They are the Neanderthal, you said so yourself. And they are scared, violent and stupid. They must be stopped!"_

_"Yes," Charles retorts through clenched teeth, "yes, they are scared and violent and stupid. And as you love to remind us, weaker than us. We could have shown them a better path, to show them that we are no danger to their society, that they can include us. But what you just did, it harmed our cause more than it benefitted it."_

_"It wouldn't work!" Erik growls, "no matter what you do, Charles, they will always fear us. You're too naïve. I've seen how it goes: how fear turns to hatred, how hatred leads to death. I will not let that happen to our kind- to mutants!"_

_"But at what cost?" Sean Cassidy butts in- Erik has almost forgotten the kids behind him. Alex Summers backs his friend up, saying, "You damn near killed the Professor!"_

_"You are wearing Shaw's helmet, for Christ's sake," Moira pipes up, "You don't even see that you're turning us into the very people you hate: oppressors!"_

_Erik feels a gloved hand resting on his shoulder- he never noticed that Charles was approaching him._

_"The damage you have done, it is grave. But it isn't irreparable," Charles gently turns Erik around by his shoulder, and Erik marvels at how calm and collected Charles can be in such dire situations, "Come back with us, and we'll try to rectify everything. Together. We want the same things, you and I. We both want our place in the world. A place for all mutants. Come with me, and we'll find ourselves that place. I want you by my side, Erik. We can be brothers- all of us, brothers and sisters, as you say- but you have to stop seeking revenge. Hatred only sparks hatred, my friend."_

_In his heart of hearts, Erik knows Charles is right. The men on those ships had been innocent. Innocent men who never truly knew what they were doing. They had been blind, foolish, idiotic soldiers, but men nevertheless. And in his mission to stop them, he has done immeasurable damage, sacrificed lives, nearly been killed himself and almost killed his one true friend. Was the cost of equality really that great?_

_But, Erik reasons, it is exactly that blindness, that foolishness, that has to be eradicated from the world forever. And if the cost is great, then he will pay it._God knows_, he thinks_, he has paid a far larger price at their hands already_. Charles Xavier is too inexperienced in the ways of the world. Let him have his cause, let him try his hand at re-education of the masses. It is guaranteed to fail; history has proven that on numerous occasions. Meanwhile, he will fight for equality- and, if necessary, superiority, the only way that works: by retaliation, by show of strength. Someday, they will see which of their methods worked better._

_"You're right," Erik mutters at last, "we both want a place in the world for mutants… but you see our place as being alongside humans. I see no place for them in the world. Their society won't accept us; you'll see that soon enough kid. We have to form our own."_

_He places a hand on Charles' arm. There is an air of finality in his gesture._

_"I'm sorry, old boy. But we do_not_want the same thing," he moves slowly away from Charles and beckons to Riptide, Angel and Azazel, "Come!"_

_The four meet in the centre of the stretch of Sand in between the ocean and the stranded ship. As they join hands under the watchful eyes of the remaining G-Men, Erik calls out, "Good-bye, Charles."_

_"Erik, don't!" Charles lurches forward to stop his friend from leaving, but it is too late. They have disappeared in a puff of red smoke._

Erik rolls over in his sleep, muttering something indistinguishable under his breath. The picture in his mind's eye changes…

_Charles is lying on the warm, wet sand in Erik's arms, blood seeping from the wound in his neck where the deflected bullet caught him. Erik's magnetic hold on Moira's dog tags is strong; her face is turning a sickly shade from breathlessness. Why did she fire metal bullets at him? Doesn't she know him at all?_

_"Erik…" Charles can barely speak, but he manages a faint, hoarse whisper, "she didn't do this. You did."_

_Erik stares down at his dying friend, letting go of Moira abruptly. He wants to apologize, wants nothing more than to turn back time and change everything. The pain in Charles' eyes is beyond what Erik can bear and the warm blood on his arm is making him feel quite sick. All he can manage to say is, "You'll be alright Charles. You will…" over and over again, until the young professor interrupts him. His voice is growing further away by the second, and his already pale complexion is rapidly taking on a shocking whiteness, all the life draining from his once electric blue eyes._

_"Oh, my friend," he laughs, each syllable catching in his throat, "you know I won't."_

_He pats Erik gently on the arm; his touch is so weak that it is barely detectable. His eyes begin to shut and his face relaxes._

_"Charles…" Erik breaths as he feels his friend go limp in his arms. Erik can hear Raven cry out in the background, the young men next to her comforting her trying very hard not to completely lose it themselves. Erik, however, does not cry. He feels a dull pain in the centre of his abdomen, but he has been in the presence of death so many times that it longer affects him outwardly._

_A large, furry hand grips onto Erik's arm and pulls him roughly away from Charles' body._

_"You killed him," snarls Hank through his blue facial hair, shaking Erik so vigorously that the German mutant loses any sense of direction. He feels as though his neck might break any second, but he cannot fight off the Beast that Hank has become. Then, a fist makes contact with the side of Erik's head. He can make out Alex's voice shouting at him; quite what, he cannot comprehend. He makes a feeble attempt at punching Alex back, but finds himself colliding with the floor instead, both young men crouching over him, beating every inch of his body with their fists._

_Erik sees Azazel's red-skinned face break up the brawl, and feels his thin, calloused hand on his arm, just as a whirlwind tears Alex and Sean away from him. He is tugged up onto his feet, blood streaming from his nose. Angel grabs onto Azazel's elbow and Riptide, who had created the whirlwind, takes a hold of Erik's shoulder as a red cloud of smoke engulfs them all, leaving the late Charles Xavier and the rest of his allies alone on the Cuban sand._

Magneto's eyes flutter beneath his closed lids, as his dream scenario changes again.

_He is standing at the door of the Xavier mansion, a small suitcase in his hand. He shrugs into his leather jacket and places a black fedora on his head. If his motive is to seem inconspicuous, he has failed, but at least he has succeeded at hiding his face. In the early hours of the morning- so early that the moon is still visible in the purple-streaked skies, Erik is sure the rest of the household will be sleeping. He does not wish to create a scene or make a meal of his departure. He has not been asked nor ordered to leave- it is a decision he has made completely and entirely for himself, out of personal reasons. For although he knows the other residents would never explicitly ask him to leave, Erik Lehnsherr knows when he is not wanted and now, that time has come even in the place that he thought might always be his home, and from the person he thought would always want him around. He opens the heavy wooden door as quietly as possible, but a familiar voice stops him._

_"Going away?" Charles Xavier sounds vaguely bored and far from interested in where Erik is going, but the sound of his words make the young German turn on his heel nevertheless. The moment he does, however, he wished he had just carried on walking and not turned around. Charles looks so different from the man he once knew. His face is drawn, tired; his eyes full of pain, and Erik knows that he is to blame. To see his old friend sat in that bulky wheelchair, holding himself so awkwardly leaned to one side, propped up on his elbow; to see his limp legs leaning against the plastic frame and to know that he is the one that put Charles there sends a pang of remorse shooting right to Erik's core. Not only has Erik destroyed Charles' body: the once so hopeful Professor who saw the good in everyone and everything, who was so warm and kind to everyone, had grown cold and distanced, disinterested and depressed. And all because of_him.

_"You know you want me to," Erik retorts, more accusingly than he means to sound._

_"I never said…"_

_"Charles," Erik cries out, "please don't do this! I see the way you look away from me! Don't you think it's hard enough to see you like this? And you never talk to me, you never look me in the eye…"_

_"Well what do you want me to do?" Charles snaps back at him, "bow down and thank you for doing this to me with your recklessness?"_

_It is the first time Charles has spoken to Erik. Erik has never heard the telepath speak with so much venom in his voice, and he is not sure if this is better or worse than the deafening silence they had shared in the last months._

_"Damn it, Charles, if you think I don't hate myself for doing this to you-" Erik shoves his hand into his coat pocket and protrudes an old Reichsmünze and a steel bullet; both cold, metallic and unyielding, much like Erik believed himself to be before he met Charles Xavier, and stuck his open palm out to Charles for him to see them, "look here! If you think I don't know what I've done, you're mistaken, kid. I know what I've done! But the fact that I stayed here after all that…"_

_"It shows me that you feel guilty," Charles agrees, the emotion in his voice regulating a bit, "But you can't expect me to forgive and forget so soon."_

_"It's been three months!"_

_"Healing takes time!"_

_The true meaning of the words is not lost on Erik. Charles' spine will never heal: his paralysis will be a constant reminder of the damage Erik has done to him. For the rest of his life, he will suffer from the effect of Erik's foolishness and inability to control himself. It is highly unlikely that Charles will ever forgive his old friend and ally, for as long as they both live._

_Erik closes his eyes and nods sadly, "And that's what I'm giving you. Time and distance. Maybe when I'm gone, you'll be able to forget all of this. I at least owe you the chance to be happy again."_

_Charles can sense that Erik has prepared what to say in advance, to avoid unprecedented, random words spilling out and betraying his true emotions, but it hurts him to say it anyway. He opens his mouth to speak, but Erik cuts him short._

_"If that's not enough for you-" and he knows it isn't, because even in his current state, Charles is the selfless man he always was in his heart," then tell yourself I'm doing it for me. Tell yourself I'm doing it because it tears me apart to see you this way, so I have to leave before it kills me."_

_Charles can no longer find a good retort, so he simply stays sat, silently watching Erik turn on his heel again and leave through the oaken door without so much as a goodbye._

One more time the picture changes. Erik is writhing on his bed in subconscious agony, watching the images in his mind like a bad movie he can't stop.

_Erik never sees the bullets flying at him. He is too preoccupied with the missiles and the boats. The force with which the steel pellet hits him in the neck sends him flying to the floor. It is only when Charles rushes over, keels down beside him and lifts his head in his gloved hands that he registers the pain. The searing pain and the hot, wet blood from the entry wound._

_He mutters Charles' name, barely taking note of the confusion going on behind him- Raven is crying, Alex and Sean are loudly cursing Moira- and the telepath, removing Shaw's helmet from Erik's head, cups his face in his palm soothingly. He doesn't say anything; he simply forces a smile onto his face, which does something by way of comforting Erik. They both know that their time is limited._

_"Charles," Erik chokes out, breathless and painfully, "promise me something?"_

_"Anything, my friend," although Charles is still smiling, Erik feels a tear drop onto his forehead and can see the line of glistening wetness it has left on Charles' cheek._

_"I know we haven't always agreed. But promise me this: fight for our kind. Don't let the humans get us. Don't let our brothers and sisters die."_

_Charles runs a shaky hand through Erik's sandy hair._

_"I swear," is the last thing Erik hears before he closes his eyes and stops fighting his body's urge to give in to the pain, leaving his allies and his one and only friend behind for good._

Erik wakes up with a start that wracks his entire body, beads of cold perspiration on his wrinkled forehead. As he tries to settle down again, he believes he has found an answer.

* * *

><p>"I gave it some thought," Magneto says, the next time he and the Professor set up the plastic chess board in his cell.<p>

In answer to Charles' quizzical look, he says, "Your question. Why I…"

"Ah yes," the Professor smiles, wheeling up to the Perspex table.

"There… there are a thousand reasons that I left that day in Cuba," he begins, rolling a bishop in the palm of his hand, "Call it ideological differences, call it sentiment, if you wish, it can't justify anything. You know that most of all. But I know now that, no matter what happened, eventually, I would have left. It's what I do, Charles."

"I thought you'd say as much," Professor Xavier nods thoughtfully and then, with an enigmatic smile, "then again… we're both still here today, aren't we?"

And Erik realises that, yes, there may be a thousand reasons for him to leave in between, for him to oppose his old friend in battle, for him to twist the rules and play dirty and try to put a stop to Charles' pathetic fight for hope, but they would always be joined in some way, would always share a bond unlike any other. There would always be a thousand reasons for Erik to leave, but there would always be thousand and one reasons for him to stay.

**Author's Note: I realise parts of this may be slightly OOC, but I hope it's not too terrible. If you liked it (or if you really didn't) please, pretty please leave me a little review ;-)**


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